Taking Possession
by Sapphire Brilliance
Summary: Quatre is young, rich, and powerful. The world is his for the taking. So why couldn't he have the one thing he truly wanted? 4x3
1. The Setup

Disclaimer -- I do not own Gundam Wing or any of it's characters.

Warning -- Language, Male/Male. The characters are OOC. I will post any other warnings as they come.

Pairing -- Quatre x Trowa, other pairings possible or changes in pairings stated.

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* * *

You know you've pretty much hit bottom when people you would normally look at strangely and move away from move away from you. Not that Trowa blamed them. He _was_ laughing and mumbling to himself.

"'I just need you to make this last delivery. I'll even give you overtime pay off the books. It's a win/win situation.'" he said mimicking his boss.

It really had been a win/win situation for him. Until he was pulled over and then promptly arrested because the shuttle and contents inside had been reported stolen. And so for the last three days he has been a "guest" in this hellhole because he had no way out. His sister lived too far away to be of any help, and his current bedmate would never willingly step into a police station. And despite frequent phone calls, his boss, the fucking cause of this mess, was nowhere to be found. By this point, Trowa was convinced that his boss may not have been as clean as he thought, so he was resigned to the fact that he was the one going down for this crime. He wasn't delusional enough to think that his boss would come and confess his crimes to get Trowa off.

"Barton, you've got a visitor."

Trowa pulled away from the wall he was leaning on and looked at the guard. He couldn't be talking about him. No one knew where he was so who could possibly visit him? The guard unlocked the cell door and opened it.

"Let's go." he said looking directly at Trowa this time.

The guard led Trowa to the large visitor's room. There were already people inside, but none that Trowa recognized. He was then led over to a table where a gray haired older man sat. He screamed lawyer. Trowa quickly looked him over, Italian leather shoes, silk shirt and tie, designer suit, and an expensive briefcase. Trowa, or anyone he knew, would never be able to afford a high end lawyer like this, so why was this guy here to see him?

"Mr. Barton, I'm Gregory Crawford. Please call me Gregory. I'm here representing...."

"Quatre Winner." Trowa suddenly said.

The lawyer gave him a look that questioned how he knew. Trowa reached out and touched a small logo on his briefcase, a golden globe with a large W through it. W for Winner Unlimited. Quatre. He couldn't stop the humorless laugh from coming out of his mouth. From the very beginning he had been set up. His boss's insistence that Trowa, rather another worker who was next in line for overtime, take the job made even more sense now. If he hadn't agreed to the job then his boss wouldn't have gotten the huge payment that Quatre obviously offered to him. He knew that simply walking away from the Winner mansion that day wouldn't have ended anything. In fact, he expected to walk into his kitchen one morning and find Quatre sitting there drinking tea, not this elaborate scheme. For a second he thought about walking out and going back to his cell, but that would only be postponing the inevitable. It seriously wasn't worth the effort to try.

"Save the speech. I'll agree to go back." Trowa said as he sat down.

"I'll have you out of here in thirty minutes."

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True to his word, Gregory had him out of free in thirty minutes. Any thoughts of true freedom were taken away as he was driven to a shuttle port and quickly put onto a private shuttle. Trowa watched four beefy men get on the shuttle after them. Gregory started to say something, but he noticed where his attention was.

"For your protection." he explained.

That earned him a look that told him exactly what Trowa thought of the obvious lie. They both knew that the mini-Hulks were there to keep Trowa in line. If they hadn't been there, he would've been long gone.

"I wasn't given clothes for you."

" I didn't expect you would be."

Gregory looked at him for an explanation but Trowa didn't give one. Instead he buckled up and closed his eyes so he could pretend to be asleep for the rest of the ride. All too quickly for his liking, they landed on L4. Trowa stepped off the shuttle and was quickly ushered outside to an awaiting limo. As they got closer to the Winner mansion, Trowa shivered slightly as he begun to feel trapped. This was the last place he wanted to be. Once there, he got out of the limo and quickly glanced around. This time no one was hovering around pretending to be busy so they could watch his arrival. He doubted his coming back was a shock or a secret. In fact, Trowa would bet money that they knew he was coming back even before he did. Bennett, Quatre's main assistant slash butler, was waiting for him. Gregory said a few words to him and then went in another direction.

"Good evening Mr. Barton."

"Bennett. Where's Quatre?"

"Mr. Winner is attending to some important matters. This way please."

Always with the games, Trowa thought. It wouldn't be arrogance or vanity for him to say that at the moment, he was the most important thing to Quatre. He followed him inside the front door and then over to the elevator. Once it came and they got on, Trowa pushed the two button just as Bennett pushed the three button. It took him a few seconds to remember what was on the third floor, the master suites. **Hell no!** This was one request, _order_, that he refused to do. Despite pressing the button, the elevator bypassed the second floor and stopped on the third. Bennett stepped off and looked back when Trowa didn't move.

"I'm sleeping in my old room." Trowa said.

"You have a new bedroom waiting for you."

"If the room's taken, I don't mind another one on the second floor."

Emphasis on the second floor.

"Those rooms are closed off and therefore haven't been prepared." Bennett explained.

"Quatre has the key right? I'll just wait for him then. You can leave me here."

"I've been instructed to stay with you until you are settled."

To Quatre's specifications and for however long it took was left unsaid. Trowa was tempted to continue to refuse sleeping on the third floor. However, he realized that he just would be taking his frustrations out on the wrong person. Bennett had absolutely no say in Trowa's treatment so he couldn't be blamed for this. He was just doing as he was told. Trowa stepped off the elevator and followed behind Bennett. Even though he had previously had lived here, Bennett felt it necessary to point out what each room was as they passed by. They walked in the master bedroom and Trowa wasn't surprised to see that Quatre hadn't redecorated. Since he was being forced to sleep here now, he really wished he had. It used to be Quatre's deceased father's room so sleeping in here was going to be slightly uncomfortable.

"Is there anything I can get for you?"

"I'm fine. I'm going to take a shower."

His seriously needed one after being in jail. Trowa headed towards the dressing room because he had to go through there to get to the bathroom. He stripped off his clothes and left them in the dressing room. He'd search for some clean clothes afterward. Bennett said something, but Trowa couldn't really hear so he didn't pay him any attention. Trowa made sure the water was as hot as he could stand before he got in. He stood there for a long while because it was refreshing to feel the water against his skin after the last few days. Forty-five minutes later, he decided he had been in long enough and got out. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped into the dressing room. He froze as he quickly realized that his clothes were gone and were replaced by a robe and noting else. He looked over at the intercom box on the wall. Would it even be worth it to call Bennett and ask for clothes?

"Probably not." he muttered to himself.

He understood that Quatre was trying to get his point across, but he was getting fed up with it. Trowa sat down on the small couch and began rubbing his temples while at the same time taking deep breaths. After a few minutes, he noticed that there was a tray of food on the small table in front of him. His stomach chose that moment to remind him that he hadn't eaten that much lately, so he began eating some of the food. Minutes later he was slumped across the couch sleeping. It never crossed his mind that the food could be drugged.

Thirty minutes after Trowa fell asleep, Quatre walked in the room. He hadn't wanted to drug him, but he had been told that Trowa had barely slept while in jail. And he'd bet that the same could be said for the trip here. Besides, he wanted him rested when they saw each other again after so long. Quatre couldn't wait to see that expressionless face overcome with anger. When provoked, Trowa could be as dangerous... _beautiful_... as those stupid cats he loved so much. He straightened Trowa on the couch and then knelt next to it so he could look at Trowa for a minute. Even after all this time, he was as gorgeous as ever. Quatre couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. He pushed Trowa's hair away from his face to see him better. And seeing how an unconscious Trowa couldn't resist, he didn't stop there. Quatre leaned forward so that he could bury his face in the crook of Trowa's neck and breathed deeply. It had been a long time since he had the pleasure of doing this.

After a few moments, he placed a few kisses on his neck and then slowly moved lower until he reached his chest. He pushed his robe open slightly and then ran his tongue across the nipple close to it and softly nibbled on it. Because of the higher dose of sedatives, Trowa didn't even stir. Quatre continued down the side of his body until he reached his hip, which he couldn't stop himself from sucking on to leave a mark. He brought his hand up and traced the line of light hair just under Trowa's naval down through his pubic hair and then along the length of his penis. Despite being happily content molesting the unsuspecting Trowa, Quatre forced himself to pull away. If he didn't stop now, then he was going to do something that would ruin everything. He had planned too long and too hard to screw this up just because he couldn't keep his lust in check. Quatre leaned his head against Trowa and sighed. He was one of the most powerful and influential men on earth and in the colonies. Yet all it ever took was an "insignificant circus clown" to bring him to his knees.


	2. Here We Go Again

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or its characters.  
Warnings: Homosexual situations, language, Characters are OOC. I will post any other warnings as they come.

_._

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_"If you would come this way...."_

_This, the VIP behind the scenes tour, was the part of the performance that Trowa hated the most. The manager had thought it up after he realized that he could charge extra for the tickets. Naturally, the tour was very popular for everyone except the performers. They were forced to stay in costume and answer questions instead of getting ready for the next show or finishing up for the night. Because Trowa worked with the lions, he had it better than most of the others. When he was ready to end the session, he would give a small signal and the lion would roar and bear his teeth. Not too many people liked to stay around the ferocious lion at that point. What they didn't know was that "ferocious" lion was actually tamer than a kitten. He was old, arthritic and going blind. Without going too quickly, Trowa did his part of the tour and the people moved on. He picked up a brush and began grooming the lion._

_"He's a beautiful animal."_

_Trowa turned to look at the owner of the unfamiliar voice. A young blonde boy was standing there staring at him. Trowa stared back trying to figure out why he looked familiar. He then realized that he had seen the boy at a few other shows._

_"What's his name?"_

_"General"_

_"And yours?"_

_"You can call me Trowa." he answered hoping the boy would go away._

_"Quatre."_

_Winner, Trowa's mind quickly supplied. Quatre Winner, heir to the Winner Empire. He had heard the name but never seen his face._

_"So cute. How much?"_

_"Sorry, he isn't for sale."_

_"I was talking about you."_

_Trowa nearly dropped the brush he was holding and looked up at Quatre. Was this kid joking? He waited for him to laugh or tell him that he was joking, but he didn't. Nor did one of the other circus workers jump out and confess to putting him up to it. Working in the circus, Trowa had heard lots of crazy things, but having this younger boy offering to buy him was at the top of the list._

_"The tour's over."_

_"This is a legitimate offer."_

_"Now."_

_"My father will pay whatever price you ask."_

_"People are not for sale. Now go away."_

_It quickly became apparent that Quatre wasn't planning on leaving. He was serious about buying him and he expected Trowa to go along with it. Trowa couldn't stop the clenching of his teeth because this boy has made him angrier than he has ever been before. Just because Quatre was a high and mighty Winner, it didn't give him the right to assume that he could buy Trowa, a lowly circus boy, like property. Unfortunately, there would be severe repercussions for hitting the Winner heir. To keep from even thinking about doing anything stupid, he got inside the lion cage and moved to the very back._

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Trowa regained consciousness but didn't open his eyes. That would just remind him of where he was. He wasn't surprised that he had thought about that first meeting between him and Quatre. It was expected since he found himself back here. He continued to lay there and wait for the inevitable headache and sickness that came with being drugged, but found that he felt perfectly fine and felt well rested. Trowa stretched and then stiffened as he realized that he wasn't alone in the bed. Quatre, who was watching him, smiled as he realized it.

"Don't worry, I didn't sleep in the bed with you."

Not that he didn't want to. After the all too brief minutes of touching him on the couch, Quatre realized that sleeping next to him would be too much temptation. Trowa opened his eyes and quickly looked over to see that while Quatre was in the bed, the side he was on was still made.

"I don't appreciate being drugged."

"You wouldn't have slept any other way. Your sleep patterns have always been horrible. I'm not sorry for doing it."

_He never was._

"Just don't do it again."

"Then don't make me have to."

That was as close to an agreement that Trowa was going to get so he let it go. Quatre got out of the bed and began fixing his clothes.

"There's a few things we need to take care of today and I figured we'd get clothes shopping out of the way first."

"Where are the clothes I left here?"

"They were accidentally thrown away."

Translation: Quatre was mad when he left and destroyed them, Trowa's mind supplied.

"Your clothes from yesterday have been cleaned so you can wear those today. Breakfast is waiting for you downstairs if you like."

Given what happened last time he ate, he was going to pass on that. All of a sudden, Quatre leaned down and gave him a quick kiss.

"Good morning Trowa and welcome back."

Before Trowa could really react, Quatre was off the bed and heading toward the door. He let out a few curses and then got up to get dressed. The sooner they got this over with the better. Shopping was going to be hell.

They hadn't even begun shopping started yet and he was miserable. Seriously, Trowa Barton and a high-end men's store didn't mix. He could feel the disapproving eyes following him the moment he walked in the door. Those quickly changed to curiosity when they saw that he was with Quatre. And the prices... even the cheapest jeans in here, three hundred dollars on sale, cost more than the clothes he bought in the last two years. He was a wash-n-wear; these clothes are on sale therefore perfect, kind of guy.

"Need help choosing some things?"

Trowa shook his head no and went to pick out some clothes. The last thing he wanted was for Quatre to pick out his clothes. Fifteen minutes later he had gotten some jeans and t-shirts as well as any other accessories he might need.

"Are you going to try them on?"

"No."

"Too bad. I wouldn't have objected to a show. Anyway, this is Nadia. She's the store's seamstress." Quatre said introducing him to the young woman standing next to him. "She needs to take your measurements for your suit and future reference."

Trowa acknowledged her with a slight nod and then realized what Quatre said. Suit? Just then a black suit was held in front of his face. Trowa took it and went into a dressing room to quickly try it on. He looked at himself in the mirror and barely kept frown off of his face. The suit was actually very nice. He'd even admit that he didn't look bad in it, but it still wasn't his style. This was all Quatre. Quatre and Nadia, who were talking, stopped and looked at him once he came back out. Quatre smiled and then circled around him. He ran his hand across Trowa's shoulder, who tensed slightly, and down his side while he continued to discuss the suit with Nadia.

"I knew this would be perfect on you."

"The color and cut is an excellent choice for him." Nadia agreed holding up measuring tape and a little notebook. "Now I need you to take off the suit."

Trowa got undressed and she began her measurements.

"I can help." Quatre offered.

Before Nadia could accept or decline, Quatre grabbed extra tape and began doing the measurements. Trowa ignored them both until he felt the tips of Quatre's fingers brush his inner thigh. He flinched despite not wanting to.

"Sorry."

They both knew that he wasn't. Quatre couldn't help but to wonder what Trowa would do to him if he pulled down his boxers and gave him a blowjob. Considering how tense he was, Trowa would probably try to kill him. Quatre added public blowjob to the list of things he wanted to do to Trowa. For a second, he wondered if he only wanted Trowa for sex but quickly pushed it away. Would he have wanted him as strongly and for as long if it was only about sex? Maybe. But if it was only about sex, Quatre would have convinced him to sleep with him in exchange for his freedom. No, he wanted so much more from Trowa.

"Are you done?"

Quatre smirked because he knew that Trowa hadn't been asking a question. What he was really saying was "You're done now. Get away from me."

"Yes." he replied as he moved away.

No need to agitate the other boy more than he already was. Another ten minutes went by before they were able to leave. Trowa's relief was short lived as he was taken to a few more stores. He doubted that he needed half the things they got but just getting the things was easier than trying to talk Quatre out of it. They continued for another hour until Quatre decided they were finished shopping.

"It's almost lunchtime. Is eating at home okay with you? I figured it'd be more comfortable, but if you'd rather...."

"It's fine." Trowa answered and then turned his head to look out the window.

Maybe afterwards he'd get some time to himself to think. Quatre glanced at him and then rested his head back against the seat. The rest of the ride back to the house was spent in silence.

Once they got back to the house, Trowa followed Quatre through the mansion to one of the smaller, informal dining rooms. A fully set table was already waiting for them when they walked in. He wasn't really hungry but the smell of the food was enough to tempt him into eating. A second later he remembered what happened the last time he ate something from and it died. Quatre noticed his hesitation at sitting down to eat and realized why.

"It's not drugged."

Trowa threw him a look that told him how much he trusted that, but sat down anyway. Fuck it. He wasn't going to worry about it. He'd waste a lot of time and starve if he was always worrying about Quatre drugging him. He pulled the cover off of his plate and wasn't surprised that it was one of his favorites, a spiced shrimp dish. He took a bite and found that it was as good as he remembered.

"I remembered that this was one of your favorites."

Of course he did. Quatre always had an excellent memory _except_ when it came to something he didn't like, such as the fact that Trowa didn't want to be anywhere near him, and then he chose to forget.

"I've also had the staff stock up on your other favorite foods and drinks. If there are any changes, just let Bennett know and he'll see to them." Quatre continued. "I wasn't sure what type of transportation you preferred so I left that decision for you. For now you can use something from the garage."

Trowa looked up at Quatre in question. This was new. So he won't be forced to stay in the house?

"No, you won't be confined to the house." Quatre said answering the silent question. "The house and property for now and then the colony. Off colony trips will come later. Also, a credit card will be issued in your name so that you can have money available to you."

The small bit of appetite Trowa had completely disappeared at this point. While he didn't appreciate being treated like a kept man, he could deal with it. The overall freedom he would be given, however, didn't sit well with him. Sure, he wanted the freedom and planned on using it but it wasn't necessarily a good thing. Not being escorted or monitored constantly and to actually be given the tools to run told him how just how secure Quatre was in the fact that Trowa wouldn't want to or be able to get away. Quatre continued on telling him about new household procedure and rules. Once he noticed that the other wasn't listening, he stopped talking.

"As much as I like talking to and looking at you Trowa, I want you to say something."

Trowa set down his fork and pushed his plate away.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked. "Will it even matter? You'll just listen to what you like and ignore the rest."

_Like the pouting, tantrum throwing, manipulative boy you are._

"But we..."

"Know where the other stands in this situation. Why waste time talking about it? I'm here. Leave it at that."

Quatre didn't like that. The tightening of his hand around his fork was a clear indication of it. Honestly, it was for the best that they didn't talk right now. Trowa wasn't happy, understatement of the year, with the fact that his life was being dictated by the whims of a bratty, spoiled kid. Again. It was only a matter of time before he said something that would upset Quatre, and in turn Quatre would retaliate. While seemingly innocent, Quatre had the mind of a devil and a way of saying things that never failed to irritate Trowa. To this day, no one has ever managed to make him as angry as that little bastard. From there things would undoubtedly go from bad to worse pretty quickly. And whether he deserved it or not, the Maganacs wouldn't appreciate him fighting their beloved Master Quatre. In fact, a walk to clear his head sounded perfect right about now. Trowa pushed his chair away from the table and stood up.

"I'm going for a walk."

Just as he was about to walk past, Quatre grabbed his arm.

"I will not let you run away this time. If you try, I will use all the resources at my disposal to come after you."

There really wasn't a need to tell him that. More than anyone Trowa knew how far Quatre would go to get what he wanted. Two days after their first encounter he found himself in the manager's office with Winner Sr and Jr where he was informed that they bought the circus. He was then informed that his job had been changed to that of Quatre's playmate. It was his choice of course, they had told him. But it was clear that the circus and the people's, mainly his sister's, livelihood depended on his answer. He was glad Cathy hadn't been there. She would've been furious and offended for him and would leave the circus in protest. The circus was her home and she loved working there. After everything she had done for him, Trowa refused to be the cause of ruining her life so he agreed as long as Cathy didn't find out. Besides, he had a feeling that the little Winner wouldn't let this end with him saying no or leaving the circus.

"I know."

Trowa pulled his arm back and walked away, ignoring the sound of breaking dishes behind him.


End file.
